A Perfect Rhythm
by MomentarySetback
Summary: Post 5x03 or 5x04 kinda. / And by a week in, it had become more than just a routine; it was a perfected rhythm. He'd arrived at her door with Italian food – her house this time, because she'd been neglecting it – and he'd knocked out of courtesy but didn't need a response before he stepped into her home. No words had transpired, but she was expecting him, after all.


_A/N: I started this after ep 3, but it's only now seeing the light of day. General timeline works for 5x03 and 5x04, though. I'm continuing to try to get back into the swing of writing more frequently 'cause I love these two._

* * *

It had become a rhythm for them – one they dared not acknowledge during the day, but that came so naturally as the sunlight faded. It had been set in motion the night she came over with Yummy Yummy Heart Attack. After several sorry attempts at sleep, a rocky first day back, and a dinner with Kensi that had yet again made him feel like all was right in the world again, they'd figured out the steps.

_Kensi slowed the SUV to a stop in front of his house, but both of them sat motionless for several long moments. She splayed her fingers across the steering wheel, patient as always._

_Deeks knew what he needed to do, but somehow the motions just were not coming. Instead, a panic was building within him, rendering him utterly incapable of reaching for the handle and moving from that seat next to her. The day had been a roller coaster. He'd come in unsure, but the more he got out there with Kensi and backed her as a partner, the better he had felt. But then Callen had rocked his foundation again, and Kensi had centered him again with her dance moves and a completely normal dinner._

_What he hadn't told anyone all day was that he still hadn't had a completely solid night's sleep on his own since he left the hospital. He was too on edge, too jumpy. _

_Whenever he closed his eyes, he heard drills and men with accents, and in the shadows of his home at night he imagined figures moving about, waiting for him. The only exception was when Kensi had captured his attention – because she always did – long enough for him to accidentally drift off. And then she'd fallen asleep there, too, leaving him with a sense of comfort and calm all night that he just couldn't explain._

_Leaving this car was like asking himself to willingly give up that feeling to let his heart race with panic, to let the demons return._

"_I'm not going to sleep," he admitted, and the shakiness in his voice caught her by surprise._

_She looked at him with those eyes – not filled with pity or sympathy, but deep, deep understanding and care and maybe a bit of worry – and a whole new wave of emotion hit him. Whatever was going on between them, he couldn't handle it right now. He felt guilty for that, for confusing her with talk of her laugh and her smile – what it had done for him, that she was everything. But he'd had to say it; he needed her to know, and he'd needed her to know he wasn't completely shutting her out._

_Deeks swallowed hard. "When I close my eyes, I just see people and I hear drills and – " He cut his own ramble off, restarting. "Look at what happened when I was on guard and prepared to go into that kind of situation. Think of what could happen if I'm asleep, if I don't know someone's there. It's ridiculous, because that was at work and I put myself in that situation and I know that, and I know my house is safe, but…" He shook his head, looking down as he anxiously ran his hands along his jeans. "I don't know how I'm fine at work and in the field with people, and then when I get home it's like the silence is just...it's too much."_

_Kensi listened and watched him attentively. She wanted to reach over and still his nervous movements with a touch to his arm – a gesture that would speak worlds of whatever was transpiring between them because it would both calm the two of them as well as electrify their senses in ways they couldn't handle right now._

_There was a reason why, when she'd stepped closer after his surgery, he'd gotten all shaky and conflicted and said he needed time away – why they'd been a good fifteen feet apart when he'd admitted that the place he'd gone to to stop the pain had been her, everything about her._

"_It'll take time," she said simply, wrapping her fingers around the arm of the seat instead of around his. It sounded so cliché and empty, but he knew she was right. "It's fresh in your mind right now, but as time goes on it'll come to you less and less. Fill your mind with new memories." Kensi met his eyes when he finally turned to her again and added softly, "Better ones."_

_She hadn't meant anything by it – at least not consciously – but the way their eyes were locked, the way his traced her features, spoke of all that was to come when he could get his bearings._

"_Maybe when I can get some sleep," he surmised. Until then, everything had been put on the backburner – surfing in the early morning hours he loved so much, runs that pushed his body to the limits, _Kensi_._

_She pressed her lips together into a hesitant, supportive smile._

"_Well," she began pushing on the buckle to free herself from the seatbelt. "In the meantime, I have double the paperwork from when you were being a hermit, so the least you could do is keep me company while I finish it…" She'd turned to him, laying her cheek against the back of the seat and looking utterly convincing as she begged him with a smile._

_He knew what she was doing, but he couldn't resist her, nor could he turn down the promise of a good night's sleep._

_He sighed contentedly, turning his head against the headrest to mirror hers. "Only if you fill me in on the good cases."_

_She smiled teasingly. "Deal."_

_A few minutes later she'd set up camp at the desk in his bedroom, surrounded by her laptop, manila file folders, and far too many papers. Deeks had already managed to situate his tired, aching body on his bed, resting on his side turned towards her to eagerly wait for her to fill in the time he'd missed._

"_Oh," Kensi exclaimed after thumbing through files. "This was pretty crazy…so this Navy Seal, Morris, was killed and all these connections to this Russian crime boss, Belikov, started popping up despite him appearing to be a pretty stand-up guy. Belikov runs a human trafficking ring based in Moscow, where Morris and his men were stationed earlier this year, that brings women and underage girls to the states. And then…" Kensi glanced at Deeks, noting that he'd either raised his brows in anticipation or just had to try that hard to keep his eyes open at that point. She held her finger up, trying to hold his attention for just a moment longer as she scrolled through the report on her screen. "Nell tracked down a second apartment in Morris' name a town or two over from his."_

_She checked on Deeks again, but evidently her brief pause had been a bit too long for his sleep-deprived body – or maybe her storytelling had relaxed him once again. He was still on his side, arms still crossed, fully clothed on top of the covers, but judging by his closed eyes and relaxed jaw, he'd definitely drifted off._

"_So we got the address," she continued on, not wanting the silence to startle him, "and Callen and I went to the apartment to-"_

_At what she could only describe as a grumble of disapproval from him, Kensi stopped._

"_You went with Callen?" he asked, and both the sleep in his voice and his lack of inhibition while half-conscious made for the most vulnerable, childlike, and – she had to admit – adorable jealousy-driven concern she'd ever heard from him. "You can't go with Callen, it's not the same."_

_It made her breath catch in her chest. Exhaling slowly, she abandoned her temporary desk and stepped towards the bed._

"_No," she agreed, gently placing the weight of her knee on the mattress, careful not to wake him. The depth of it hit her as she slowly laid herself across from him, stretching out and tucking an arm beneath her head as her eyes traced over his features. She mirrored him, watching him sleep for the second time that week, fully okay with the fact that sleep seemed to come to him much easier when she was around._

_But the fact that knowing he was asleep just next to her made her sleep better, too, that whenever his skin brushed hers or when he'd kissed her she lost all sense of the world around her – that all made a lump form in her throat that she had to fight to swallow down._

"_It's not the same at all."_

And by a week in, it had become more than just a routine; it was a perfected rhythm. He'd arrived at her door with Italian food – her house this time, because she'd been neglecting it – and he'd knocked out of courtesy but didn't need a response before he stepped into her home. No words had transpired, but she was expecting him, after all.

She'd had her hands full with a basket of freshly washed and dried clothes, so he'd pulled a large wine glass from her cupboard and poured her a generous sample of the red wine he'd brought to pair with her food. When she came back to the kitchen, he'd tried not to focus on the sheen of sweat covering her sunkissed skin; that and her clothing were sure signs of a long run.

They'd eaten and talked effortlessly over an episode of Top Model, making all too shallow comments about contestants. But the minute she'd sat back with her second glass of wine and let her eyes drift to him during a natural lull in conversation, things changed a little.

He seemed a little different today. She didn't want to jinx it and say he was lighter, or more relaxed, or well rested; he was just different, and she couldn't pinpoint it. Maybe time was just doing its job and slowly but surely letting him heal. Or maybe something had changed.

"What?" he asked, all too aware of the heat of her eyes on him.

"Nothing," she assured, shaking her head convincingly.

He let it slide, taking a sip of his beer and setting it on his thigh, twisting the neck of it idly around in his fingers. Suddenly he seemed a little more serious. "I went surfing today."

She couldn't help but grin. "Yeah?" A warmth ran through her. He hadn't talked about it, but she could only imagine. Along with sleep, anything that pushed his body and senses to the point of overdrive and vulnerability had lost all appeal while he was trying so desperately to maintain control.

"Yeah." He met her eyes, his lips curving upward at the memory of water rushing beneath him, muscle memory and instinct taking over. "I felt a little wobbly at first, but it came back quickly."

"I'm sure. You practically live in the water when you're not chasing bad guys and unsuspecting women in yoga classes."

He laughed, but instead of a quick quip back about her being jealous, he simply said, "No, I don't really do that anymore."

Kensi swallowed hard and took another sip of wine. She knew why. They'd been tiptoeing around it for weeks – the fact that he'd kissed her, that for months they'd basically been pushing one another to the point of admitting how they felt, that after his torture neither of them could sleep soundly without the other within the same room. It wasn't exactly healthy, and it went far beyond the bonds of partnership. He didn't just trust her with his safety; he felt comforted and whole with her next to him – something he couldn't describe but that he'd desperately needed while sleep-deprived and losing control.

Really, he hadn't _needed_ her there every single night; he just felt better when she was. He would've gotten through it without her, but he'd gotten the sleep he needed quicker and regained his bearings sooner because of her.

And she'd been all too willing to be there – because she was his partner. Because she was also whatever else they were to each other.

And now that he was getting his feet back on the ground, maybe they could start to figure out what exactly that was.

Deeks took the last swig of his beer before setting it on her coffee table decidedly. "I think I'll head home tonight."

She couldn't help the twinge of disappointment she felt, but hope and a million other emotions flooded her just as quickly. Maybe it was the wine, but she smiled at him coyly. "Sure you don't need me to keep the monsters at bay?" she teased.

"Really?" he shot back. "Do we need to have another one-liner session?"

"No." She laughed, following his lead as he headed towards her front door. "Maybe."

"Just don't tell Callen and Sam," he threatened, turning back around with a pointing finger as they made their way out onto her front porch. "They already think I have a soft spot for you."

She straightened, catching his gaze the moment he realized how dangerous a comment like that was these days. And just before another uncomfortable silence settled between them once again, the corners of her lips curved into a smile. "Don't you?"

Echoing her playful tone from just moments before, he tilted his head and answered, "Maybe."

Pressing her lips together to tame a smile, she crossed her arms around her middle as the slight breeze cooled her skin. She studied him for a second, hoping he was really as okay as he seemed. She needed to stop worrying, she knew. It had been weeks, and he was back in the field, slowly getting pieces of his life back together.

Besides, they'd put everything on hold after his ordeal – the gradual and then sudden build-up of tension between them, the weeks of accusing words and between-the-lines conversations, that kiss… Trying to make sense of that amid the emotional fallout from his torture would have been impossible, so she'd been patient. And the fact that he was okay enough to attempt a good night's sleep on his own, without distractions or soothing conversations and company, was a sign. It was _good_. It meant they were that much closer to how that day should have ended – with a heated conversation that probably would have imploded into a dangerous mix of tension and broken down boundaries and pent-up frustration.

But she couldn't help but worry – and feel a little disappointed – at the prospect of a night without his easy company and distracting, playful banter keeping both their minds occupied.

"If you need anything…" she began, but trailed off, meeting his eyes.

"I know," he assured with a nod.

Her lips spread into a smile, although it was a bit forced. Despite the kiss that demanded some sort of confrontation or discussion, she'd been giving him space because of the events that had followed that day. But after everything the past few weeks – his confession in ops, their nights together, her willingness to be there for him without making him feel weak – and no indication of what would happen next, this somehow felt like a step back.

She lifted her shoulders, shrugging. "Goodnight, Deeks."

"Goodnight." And then, just as they both began to turn away, he caught her with a "Kens."

"You interested in surfing in the morning?" he asked, his voice faltering a little at the end – not for fear or in panic this time, but with nerves.

"Yeah," she said, still a little surprised. "Only if you're finally teaching me to not suck."

"Of course," he said confidently, a playful smirk toying at his lips as he began to walk away. "Then it's a date."

Kensi's brows furrowed, wondering if she was reading into it too much. With Deeks, though, that was almost never the case. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means it's all set," he explained very reasonably, walking backwards as he spoke to her. Feigning confusion, he asked, "What did you think it meant?"

She narrowed her eyes at him as her hands found their way to her hips. Yeah, he was definitely getting back to normal. Letting out a sigh of frustration, she shook her head, but she was pressing her lips together to keep back a smile the whole time.

"Goodnight, Deeks," she said again, playful but definitive.

"I'll pick you up at 6, Sunshine," he teased, calling out to her as he stepped down her walkway.

Kensi breathed out through clenched teeth, watching him leave her confused and frustrated just like always before – but hopeful this time.

Hopeful was new.


End file.
